Mind Tricks
by Griever11
Summary: Castle and Beckett wait in line for Star Wars. Season 8, no spoilers for the latest Star Wars.


Kate Beckett is trying not to let her frustration show; keeping her annoyance at this whole situation just simmering at an acceptable level. This is _not_ how she thought the night would go.

When her husband - nerdiest, dorkiest guy she knows - casually mentioned he'd gotten them tickets to watch the latest installation of the Star Wars franchise, it hadn't come as a complete surprise. In fact, she'd expected it and being a fan of the series herself, she had been a little excited about it.

But standing in line now, one among the hundreds that had turned up for the premiere, she's starting to regret accepting his invitation. They're still pretending to be broken up, after all, and she's paranoid that they'd both be recognized. Not that she believes that they will, especially when they're both dressed up the way they are.

Earlier in the evening, when she snuck into the loft after a relatively slow day of paperwork, her husband had greeted her with a goofy grin on his face, a package in his hand.

"I got us a couple's costume!" he'd announced, a proud smile on his face. "Tonight's going to be so much fun!"

So at half past eleven, cold and a little grouchy, Kate Beckett finds herself dressed as Padme Amidala, in the iconic white, skintight bodysuit complete with a cape draped over her shoulders. Vibrating with barely contained excitement next to her is Darth Vader, flashing LED lights on his chest piece, helmet and all.

"I still can't believe you got me a costume from the prequels," she mutters to him. "The _prequels_ , Castle."

Her husband turns to her and pulls off his helmet, something he's had to do all night to talk to her because the voice modulator on the thing made it very difficult for her to understand him. "I tried for Han and Leia, but they were all sold out! And besides, this is so much warmer than a metal bikini."

He leers at her as if she _is_ wearing the metal bikini anyway; his heated stare raking slowly down her figure. It sends tingles of want down her spine as if they hadn't already managed to fit in a round of roleplay before leaving for the midnight screening. She feels her cheeks warm at the memory and she nudges him, elbow digging into his side.

"Stop ogling," she mumbles, taking his hand and lacing their fingers together, inching forward as the line moves. He chuckles in apology but the spark of desire doesn't disappear from his eyes and he winks at her.

Shuffling forward, someone trips on her cape and Beckett lets out a small growl of frustration. She's been pushed, shoved, and poked at all night, in addition to having to suffer through the noise of multiple lightsabers clashing against each other and the screaming of ardent fans around her.

Beckett huffs, tugging her cape tighter around her body. It's been so long since she's attended a midnight premiere and she's forgotten how enthusiastic some people can get.

People, which included her husband, currently in a heated debate with a Wookie about the merits of living in sand planets as opposed to ice planets. The Wookie eventually wanders off and her husband turns back to her, childlike wonderment glinting in his eye.

"Isn't this great?"

Beckett doesn't want to dim his spirit, not when he's so happy and bubbling with delight. The corners of his eyes crinkle with mirth, laugh lines etched along his face and she loves it. She loves _him._

And she also kind of loves Star Wars so she sets aside her mild frustration and lets her own excitement replace it. She grins at Castle and brings their still entwined hands to her lips to kiss the back of Castle's gloved hands.

"Yes, it's pretty great. But why couldn't you have just booked out the entire theatre, like you did when we watched the Avengers?"

Caste gasps, a little over-dramatic even for him, and brings their clasped hands to his heart. " _Beckett_!"

"What?"

"You can't - oh my God, waiting in line with fellow fans is like, half the experience! Look at the costumes, and the people, and just, _everything_!"

He looks so affronted, it's almost comical. His eyes are wide open, mouth agape and Beckett stifles the urge to laugh. The helmet hangs off the fingertips of his other hand, swaying precariously, threatening to fall on the ground.

She reaches over, grabs the helmet from him and lifts up on her toes to plant a kiss on his cheeks. He's cold, his skin exposed to the New York winter air and she nuzzles in, her nose skimming the sharp line of his jaw. He smells good, and a little bit of her annoyance dissipates as she breathes him in.

"Okay, okay. Whatever you say, babe."

She catches the flare of delight in his eyes at her words and not for the first time, her heart stumbles with guilt. Her misguided attempts at protecting him had led him to believe she was willing to give up on their marriage and it guts her that she's made him feel that way. She squeezes his hand, smiles up at him and makes a silent promise to herself that she's going to spend the rest of her life making up for what she put them through the past few months.

Starting with sucking it up and staying by Castle's side in line, and making an effort to be less grumpy about the whole situation.

"You are not annoyed at this line," Castle murmurs as he turns to face her as if he's just read her mind like the Jedi he's pretending to be. He steps away and raises his free hand, waving his fingers at her. "You love being here right now."

Beckett refrains from rolling her eyes again and smirks at her husband. Silly man. "What am I, Castle, a lowly Stormtrooper?" She narrows her eyes at him and lowers her voice. "Your mind powers will not work on me, boy."

Castle laughs, the sound booming in the night, and it fills her heart with joy. "Did you just quote Jabba the Hutt to me? You are really the perfect wife."

He leans down, his height more prominent now that she's in the white, flat, costumed boots, and kisses her fully on the lips, warm and tender. Her mouth opens voluntarily, allows him to sneak his tongue in to caress hers and she moans at the contact. Their lips glide together in a well-practiced rhythm and she melts into his embrace.

She's aware they're still in public and their kiss tapers off eventually. Grinning, he loops an arm around her shoulders and with the other hand plucks his Vader helmet out of her grasp. A rumble of cheers make its way down the line, and it builds to a deafening crescendo as the doors to the theatre open.

"We're going in, Beckett! Get excited!" Castle crows, hugging her to his side.

He readjusts the helmet over his head, and with a flourish brandishes his lightsaber, powering it up and waves it in the air. Beckett laughs at his antics and can only hold on to him as he marches with the group of people through the wide arch of the entrance.

* * *

They stumble out a mere hour later, tears of laughter streaming down their faces, almost tripping over their respective capes.

She can't help herself and collapses on the side of the building, sliding down the wall in a fit of giggles. Castle towers over her, hair askew, Darth Vader helmet nowhere to be seen. He's wearing the biggest grin on his face as well and she extends her arm out to him, inviting him to come sit with her.

He settles down next to her, still laughing and he tips his head back against the wall, eyes shut. "I can't believe that just happened."

Beckett shakes her head and snorts, hand reaching out to spread on his thigh, squeezing it. "Babe, you were-"

"It was dark!"

"-feeling me up like a horny teenager!"

"Hey, you were the one who turned my lightsaber on!" He protests and they stare at each other for a beat and burst out in laughter again.

They'd gotten a little handsy when the opening credits scrolled up the screen, taking advantage of the relative darkness in the theatre. Unfortunately for them, between their not so innocent kisses and subtle groping, she'd accidentally flicked the button on his lightsaber. It had powered on, shining in the darkness, and they'd been caught literally red handed.

So amidst the angry protests and disapproving stares of everyone else around them, they'd hightailed it out of there, laughing at the absurdity of the entire situation.

"We're missing the movie," Castle says, but there isn't a single hint of remorse in his voice. Instead, he's all smiles, face dangerously close to hers that she can smell the popcorn they barely had time to start on.

Beckett leans in to give him a peck on his lips and stands up, pulling him along with her. She laces her arms around his neck, teeth nipping along his jaw. She presses her body into his, hips grinding suggestively into his.

"Don't worry about the movie, Castle," she whispers against his lips. "I know of another _force_ that we can _awaken_ on our own at home."

* * *

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